The Silencer Working Title
by BabbWritings
Summary: Based on the books by Chris Ryan. John Tailor, 20 years old, seeks revenge after a kidnapped as a child and witnessing the death of his parents but, not knowing who the killers are, he is led on a trail of deceit.
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE

The road was long and seemed to drag on forever as the car slowly pulled away. I tried to look out of the window but couldn't see a thing for I had a bag over my head. I realised that my hands were tied behind my back as I tried to wriggle free. I must have been knocked out cold for a few hours as the last thing I remember was saying goodnight to my mom and dad and going to sleep and then I woke up in this car with a bag over my head. I had no idea who I had been captured by. '_Who would want to capture a child_?' is all that went through my head as the car travelled along.

The car arrived at its destination and I was viciously dragged out of the boot of the car and thrown to the ground with a thud, the bag was removed off my head and I was faced with a M9 Beretta 9mm pistol. I didn't know what was going to happen. I got led by my captives who were masked in thick, black balaclavas into a dimly lit room with a sofa and a TV, the basics on which to live. It appeared to be a hideout of some sort. A very basic hideout and the gun was yet again placed at my head. There were 3 of them in total, all dressed in army camouflage and these black balaclavas. One of their names was Harry. I overheard one of their conversations; "What shall we do with him Harry?" I heard him say. I didn't know which one it was as they were in another room but I could tell by the tone of the reply that this wasn't going to be a nice experience.

"What do you want from me?" I said scared out of my wit. "Where are my family?"

"Sit down and shut up!" ordered one of the captives, forcing the gun into my head one more time. "Watch the TV". I sat and watched a video. There was this man tied up on a chair, screaming for help. He was being tortured. Standing beside him was a tall, thin man dressed as my captives were and holding a rifle. I watched this man get tortured and tortured and tortured until breaking point. At first I didn't realise who the man was until the very last minute when I realised it was my father. The gun got pointed to his head as he begged for them to stop. I shut my eyes; I didn't want to see what happened next. With my eyes shut, not knowing what was happening, I heard someone barge through the door and scream. It was a woman. It sounded like my mother and then suddenly without a seconds warning, the gun moved from the back of my head and I heard two gun shots. I didn't want to open my eyes for fear of what I might see however I forced myself to see the trauma that had occurred before my eyes.

I slowly opened my eyes to discover my mother lying on the floor in a pool of blood, blood streaming from her head. It was clear from the sight of her that she was no longer living. I screamed: "How could you do this?"

That was ten years ago


	2. Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

My name is John Tailor and I'm twenty years old. I've took it upon myself to go in search of my captives, make them pay for what they did to me ten years ago. My father died not long after that date. I never saw him again. He too got shot in the head. I got put into care which wasn't a nice experience. I got bullied a lot, and nobody understood how I felt, what I was going through and what it was like to be knocked out, bagged, and took to an unknown place where you see your mother get shot and your father about to die.

I left care 2 two years ago and am now living on my own in an apartment in London. It is a large flat with a double bed, widescreen television, cooker, sink, bathroom; the works. I stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the sights of London and took a deep breath, anticipating the adventure I was about the embark upon. It was an early spring morning and I could hear the birds chirping in the distance as the sun rose onto what would be a beautiful day. I re-entered my apartment and looked at the clock. It was twelve minutes past six. I reached up into a cupboard situated next to my bed and fetched out a suitcase which would be my home for the next few months and started depositing the contents of my wardrobe into it. It was a blue suitcase with wheels, made it easier for transport; it was compact and allowed me to put everything in it that I would need; clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, wash things, the essentials.

I looked at the clock again after finishing with my packing. It was three minutes past seven, it took nearly an hour to get ready but now, finally, I was ready. Ready for the adventure.

I took one last glance around the room. This was the last time I was going to see this room for a while, if at all. There was no guarantee that I was going to come back alive; I could end up dead on this mission. I took one last deep breath as I reached towards the brass knob on the door, turning it slowly I opened the door and said goodbye to the room which has been my home for the past two years. I departed the room and walked down the long, coloured hallway towards the two metal doors into the elevator which would take me to the ground floor to start my journey to kill my captives from ten years ago.

There was only one problem. I have no idea who they were, where they are or where they would be. They were masked the last time I saw them and it was ten years ago, they could be out of the country by now. There was only one place to start. My home. I had to go back to the place where I got kidnapped.

I exited the building and entered the blue Mazda 6 that I had recently brought and turned the key in the ignition, the engine started to rev up and the adventure was on. Pulling away from the other cars parked next to mine, I took one final glance at the building knowing that I may not return, turned the car around and drove.


	3. Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

The road was long that lead up to the house that I grew up in and it was obvious that no-one had entered this place in years. The bushes and trees were overgrown with weeds and thorns; the house was all bordered up and overgrown with ivory. I stepped out of the car onto the gravel path that led up to the house, looked across the front garden and noticed the swing I used to play on. So many memories started flooding back.

The gravel crunched under my feet as I made my way towards the house. The front door was on its hinges from where my captives had broken in. _Yes,_ I thought, _there may still be some other clues_. I moved the door out of the way to allow me to enter the house. It was dark and I could smell the stench from rotting wood where rain had leaked through. The beauty that the house once possessed has now been destroyed. The beautiful wooden beams that once ran across the ceiling were now just pieces of wood, there for support. The wallpaper that used to brighten up the walls was peeling and covered in mould. The tiles that lay on the floor were broken and decrepit. I looked up and noticed that there was a leak. The house was nothing like I remember.

I looked around as memories continued to fill my mind; the place where we used to put the Christmas tree, the place where the decorations went for birthdays, and the stairs which I used to run down just to greet my parents of a morning, all came flooding back. I took several steps into the darkened hallway towards the front room, all the furniture had been taken out of the house, either by the council or thieves who are after some money, it wouldn't have mattered anyway it was no use to me. I had come here to look for any clues on who my captives were and where they would be.

I thought that the best place to start would be upstairs in my room, where I was kidnapped. _There had to be something up there._

I stood and gazed at the staircase. The banister used to be a magnificent piece of carpentry, but now it was just rotting wood. It used to have a nice glazed finish, but that's now gone. I climbed the twenty-one stairs up to the landing. I remember counting each step every-time I walked up or down them. It was a habit I had. The upstairs too, looked as bad as downstairs did. The wallpaper, the floor, the doors, it was as if someone had came with a magic hover and sucked all the beauty out of the house. The door on the left was my room.

I heard the floorboards creak as I took three steps towards the door, slowly reaching out towards the handle with my hand, anticipating what was behind it. I stopped at the door. I didn't want to go in. It was as if what happened as a child was happening all over again, but as if I was the kidnapper. I didn't like this feeling but I knew it had to be done.

The handle slowly turned and the door was pushed open. I peered around the corner of the door just to see what the room was like. Nothing had changed. The bed was still unmade; toys were still all over the floor, the curtains were still shut. Whoever had come and took all the things from downstairs hadn't touched this room; _maybe the police didn't let them_. I looked around the room desperately searching for clues. Nothing. It was dark in the room so I clambered through the clutter that was on the floor over to the window and drew back the Star Wars curtains that I had as a child.

This was the first time I had seen the back garden since returning and I noticed how big it actually was. It appeared to stretch for miles, even though it was only a few yards. The grass was long and overgrown, the trees that surrounded the garden was also overgrown making it impossible to see over the fence. More memories of my childhood returned. I remembered having a swimming pool outside when it was hot, and having a slide. That was also now gone.

As I glanced around the room I noticed a slip of paper on the floor, thinking it was a clue I rushed over to it, not taking any notice of the objects that cluttered the room, treading on everything in my path.

I stretched down hoping it would be a clue. Something, just something that would give me a lead. I opened the slip of paper which was now in my hand, sweat started to form on my head and hands as the rush was starting to get to me. There was a number. 07463218898. I recognised this number but from where?

I started to scavenge through my memories trying to trigger where I knew that number from. I hadn't seen or used that number in at least ten years. That was it. It was my mothers number, _but what was it doing on the floor? _As I turned back round to face the window I noticed out of the corner of my eye that under the bed was another piece of paper. I took three slow steps holding an inquisitive mind, and picked up it up. On opening it revealed yet again another number. 07756298666. This number I didn't recognise. I stood and questioned in my mind whether to call it, try to see if it led me anywhere, anywhere at all. _I'll leave it for now_, I thought.

I continued to search the room high and low in search of any more clues. Nothing.

I slid down the banister, just as I did as a kid, back down the stairs down into the main hall. The smell of rotting wood had returned. Nothing can describe the smell, it was horrible. I glanced around the room, looking for a phone and saw one sitting in the corner on the floor. Someone must have deliberately left it there, knowing someone will return. This doesn't make any sense. It was a modern phone and unlike the rest of the house, this phone hadn't been here long, I could tell that as it wasn't covered in dust for a start. Hesitantly I dialled the number, 07756298666. The phone rang.

"Hello?" It was a man on the other end, I could tell from his deep husky voice, either that or he was masking it knowing that the number was from here.

"Hello" I replied.

"Who are you?"

"My name is John, I found this number and I was wandering who it was?"

Beeeeep.

The dial tone sounded. The man on the other end had hung up. It was obvious he know who I was and didn't want to speak. It was no help whatsoever I had to find something else. I had the sudden urge to go out into the garden in hope that something may come up.

The grass was long and had a row trees bordering the garden. I saw an opening in one of the trees and looked through, noticing that there was a footprint; a fresh footprint. Someone had come back here. It was as if they wanted me to return.

I contacted a good friend of mine who was in part of the police force working in forensics. I told him what I was doing and that I'd found a footprint. He came and took a sample to try and figure out who this man, or women, was. I told him about the call and he set up a connection so that we could traipse the call to the man's identity. I rang the number again and the same deep husky voice was on the other end. I guessed the man was around mid-thirties and lived on his own, no family. I know I needed to keep him on the phone long enough to be able to get a trace on the call. _I had to do something._

"Hello" I said desperately trying to mask my voice in case he recognised it.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm erm from the gas company British Gas. How long have you been a registered member for us then?"

"I'm not with British Gas"

_Shit. That didn't work. I have to keep going._

"We have this new erm… this new"

"Get to your point, I haven't got all day"

I received a nod from Graham, my friend, I had held him on the phone long enough. I could now end the call "Could I interest you in joining British Gas, we have some great deals"

"No thank you I'm not interested"

He hung up. We had a trace, but I still didn't know who he was. It was a start and I now had an address of this man. Maybe he was my captive, may he wasn't but it was someone who had been to the house since the murders. Graham left and I was back on my own.


	4. Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

I drove along the road in my blue Mazda 6. I had no idea where I was going, what was awaiting me, and most of all I had no way of protecting myself. No weapons at all. This could be the end.

I noticed a sign as I drove past, 'You're now entering Wales. Please drive carefully'. Wales. That's where I was heading. Whoever this man was, he certainly knew how to hide away.

The house where I had been led too was tucked away, miles away from the nearest village. It was a nice little cottage with a little path leading to its brown wooden door with a little wooden archway surrounding it, creating a canopy. I could hear the birds chirping in the nearby trees. The day was in full swing now and I looked at my watch to see it was twelve 'o' clock. My stomach started rumbling. _I need food _but there was no time. I had to find my captives. The grass on the garden at the front of the house was freshly cut, I could smell it, there was defiantly someone home.

I stepped towards the door. I could feel my heart pounding, sweat starting to form on my head. I had no idea who this man was, whether he was the one who caught me or whether he wants to kill me. I rang the doorbell and waited.

After what felt like hours of waiting, the door creaked open and I saw two bulky green eyes poke round the door. "Hello" I said, unnerved to the situation.

"Hello" replied the same deep, husky voice that I had heard on the phone. It was clear that he was shocked at my presence and it was clear that he was someone unlikely to get many visitors. "May I come in?" I asked. The door opened to reveal the man to his full extent. He was a large fellow, obviously liked his beer. He was about six feet tall with long, thick, black matted hair. Growing from his face was a jet black beard. _I knew this face from somewhere but where?_

"Come in" he bellowed.

"Thank You". The interior of the house was just as nice as its surroundings. The walls were full of pictures of the countryside and cottages, the doors were made from fresh wood from the local trees. He led me into his front room where there was a grand fireplace situated with a fire crackling beneath it.

"Please. Take a seat". I did so. This seemed very strange, once he found out who I was on the phone he hung up, yet here he is offering me into his home and offering me a seat. _Who was this man?_

"Who are you?" I asked, hoping to get a response.

"I know who you are and I know why you're here"

"Who are you?" I repeated, this time slightly more aggressive.

"I know why you're here" he repeated, not once turning around to face me. He reached into a glass cabinet in the corner of the room and poured himself a drink of whiskey. He gestured the glass towards me as if offering me a drink, I refused.

"Please yourself" he continued, still facing the corner of the room. "Your name is John Tailor and you're twenty years old. You were captured as a child and took to a remote place where you saw your father being tortured to death and your mother shot. You then returned to your home where you found your mothers number and this number. You come here in search of me" I paused. I was shocked that he knew all of this. _How did he know this information? _

"Yes. That's right" I stuttered, still in shock. "Who are you?"

"My name is Luke Read"

I recognised that name from somewhere.

"I was a good friend of your fathers. I thought you were dead. I didn't realise you were still alive"

_That's why he hung up the phone_

"Yeah, I was put into care but now I've got my own place in central London. Was it you who put the numbers in the house?"

"I thought you might ask that" he replied, a smug grin forming on his face.

"Why?"

"I have some information that you might be interested in"

"How do I know that I can trust you?"

Luke turned round, the smug grin still on his face. He started to laugh. "I remember when you was a child. Knee high to a grasshopper. I worked with your father. What did your father do?"

"He was a cobbler, he used to work late hours, rushing to get shoes finished. He had a reputation for being the fastest shoe repairer in town"

"How many cobblers do you know who worked the hours that your father did?"

"They were strange hours" From this man's reactions I started to question in my mind whether my father was a cobbler or not. I asked the question that had been playing through my head for the past few moments. "My father wasn't a cobbler was he?"

Luke walked past me and exited the room. I wasn't sure whether he wanted me to follow him but I stayed put where I was nonetheless. I didn't know who this guy was and the last thing I wanted to do was get beat up for trespassing round this man's home. He returned carrying a box. It was a small black box, slightly bigger than a briefcase and he placed it upon the small glass coffee table situated in the middle of the room.

"Open it" Luke said with an element of excitement in his voice. "Open it"

The briefcase sat before me, and I anticipated whether to open it or not but before I had chance to move, Luke had already started opening the clasps that had the box sealed. Situated inside was pictures. Lots of pictures.

"Take a look, John. It might answer a few questions"

I picked up the first photo I could see. It was black and white and in it were two males standing outside an aircraft hanger. I still had no clue to who this man was and what my dad did. I picked up another photo as Luke stood gazing at me, waiting for me to say something.

"Is this my dad?" I asked looking at yet again another photo.

"Yeah"

"And is this?"

"Me. Yeah"

The photo also was of two males. They were wearing all black uniforms with a little logo on the shoulder but I couldn't see enough to tell what it was. "What did my dad do?"

Luke didn't reply but reached further into the box and obtained another box, slightly smaller and offered it me. The silence of this man's actions interested me somewhat. I opened this other box to reveal two medals, both named for my dad. _He never told me about any medals. _The first one of the two was slightly rounded with a star outlining it. Gold plated I guessed. It was for bravery. My father had something to do with the forces. I was guessing from his uniform that he did undercover work. "Did my father work undercover for the special forces?"

"You've finally figured it out then"

_That explained the late hours. That explained the kidnapping and torture. The pieces of the jigsaw was fitting together but there were still some pieces missing. Who killed my father?_

"Did you work with my father then?"

"Yeah. We did some work together once. Undercover. We got sent into Afghanistan to get trained up with the Taliban, but it backfired on us and that was when your father got tortured and shot. I managed to escape and come back here. I got took out of the services after that and haven't returned since."

I now have found out that my captives were members of the Taliban. _But what were they doing over here._

"Can I ask, do you know who kidnapped me"

Luke turned and faced away. I could tell he was hiding something.

"I don't know who did kidnap you" Luke said, still looking away "But I do know one thing"

"What's that"

"I've said too much already. You should go"

"Can't you just tell me that one thing"

"No"

Luke started collecting all the photos together putting them back in the case, taking the medals off me and slamming the case shut. Now knowing this man was serious about me going I decided to leave. If I was to think that this visit would have been a waste of time, I had at least found out about my father's past.

"There is a B&B a few miles down the road in the next village. You can stay there for the night" and with that I was shoved out the door.


	5. Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

I stepped outside the house and to my surprise it had gotten dark. _How long had I been in there?_ I checked my watch and found that the time had now reached six 'o' clock. I had been in the house 6 hours, it certainly didn't feel that long and I now realised how little I got out of the visit. I hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning and I was starting to feel the pain.

I made a quick stop at a local restaurant. It was a nice little place in the local village, a five minute drive from Luke's house. _The Queen's Inn_ it was called. I had a good old fry up as I didn't know when I would eat next. It tasted like the best meal I've ever had, even though I had to wait an hour for it, but that's the price you pay for eating at a restaurant.

I still hadn't got anywhere to stay. After leaving London that morning the thought of sleep hadn't crossed my mind. I needed to find somewhere to sleep as I knew I had another early morning ahead. I had to find out more information about the Taliban.

I left the restaurant and started the search for somewhere to stay. Driving the Mazda through the streets of the village, I pulled up on the drive of a B&B and locked the car. Entering the building it reminded me my birth home in all its glory: the wooden beams, the carved banister, tiled floor. I walked up to the receptionist to book in. The girl behind the desk had a twinkle in her eye. She looked to be around her early twenties, not very old, and had beautiful blonde hair, waving with the wind off a fan. Her eyes were blue and I could tell she was wearing something on her lips, they were glimmering in the light. She was on the phone as I approached the desk so I waited patiently for her to hang up before I made my move.

She stood up and came to my services, it was at this point I noticed how beautiful she actually was. I looked from the head down. The face I had already noticed was beautiful but the beauty ran down her whole body. She was fairly thin but the curves of her body stuck out. I eyed my way down, first noticing the succulent looking breasts. She was wearing a blouse with the top three buttons undone, cleavage in view. I tried not to stare too long before carrying on with my exploration of her body. Moving down from her breasts I noticed her hips, these were just the right size. I liked girls with nice curves, a figure and she definitely had them. I heard her say something but I was too lost in my imagination to take note of what it was.

"Can I help you?".

She was asking me a question. This time I had broke from the trance she had put me in by her magnificence. She had a well spoken English accent, clearly had good ways when it came to communication, slightly seductive in her tone

"Erm. Yeah, I'd like to book a room for two tonight please?"

"Room for two eh? Double or two singles?"

"Double please."

"Who's the lucky lady then?"

"You" _Shit!_ I was thinking it but the words just slipped out of my mouth but before I had chance to apologise she interrupted.

"Your room is number 10, second floor. I finish at 10".

And before I had time to think I had a date for tonight.

I walked up the flight of stairs to my room and opened it to find that it was just as nice as the rest of the building. This was more like a five star hotel than a B&B but I wasn't complaining. It had cost me just £15 for the night with an all you can eat breakfast. I didn't bother unpacking as I was only staying the one night so I just dumped the suitcase that I had packed my things in by the door and headed for the en-suite. If this girl was going to show up, I had better freshen myself up. I switched on the shower and let the water run, warming it up was something I'd done ever since I could remember, stripping off whilst it was warming.

I enjoyed the nice long shower, reminiscing the events that had played out that day, the information that I had gathered. _Why hadn't my father told me about the special forces? And Why did the Taliban kidnap me and torture my father? _I still had a long way to go to find out who did this to me and my family.

Ten 'o' clock drew nearer and I just sat on the bed waiting. It was a comfy bed, double mattress, double pillows. The most comfy bed I've ever slept on, it sure would be the best bed to fulfil my wishes of tonight. The door knocked and I got up to peer through the little spy hole through the door just to check who it was. It was the girl from reception, I still didn't know her name. She looked more ravish than when I saw her earlier that evening. She was wearing a black sparkly dress, cleavage still on show, which came to just above the knees. I opened the door and invited her in.

"I'm Joanne"

"John"

Her voice was shallow, timid, yet at the same time seductive.

"So, where do we start?" she asked. My heart started to pump. I hadn't anticipated it all to happen this quick and I wasn't expecting those to be the first words out of her mouth.

"Erm, I dunno. I guess a drink?"

"I'll help myself. I know these rooms like the back of my hand" She walked over to the cupboard in the corner of the room. I hadn't yet ventured into that area of the room. On top of the cupboard was a TV, and underneath it was where the alcohol was situated. Joanne fetched out a bottle of whiskey and placed it by the TV before, once more, returning to cupboard and retrieved two glasses and filled them with the whiskey. She necked hers in one and, filling it up again, brought me mine, handed it to me and threw her arms around me.

"How about here to start?" She started kissing my neck before stopping, necking another glass of whiskey, and carrying on.

"That's nice" I replied, taking a sip out of my whiskey, if I was to remember this night I was to take the drinking sensibly. I wasn't prepared to drink myself silly.

"Drink up" she said to me before smashing her glass on the floor , grabbing me by the neck of my t-shirt and pulling me on top of her on the bed. I liked where this was going.

"How do you like this then for a start" she whispered into my ear before nibbling on my earlobe. I reached out and gave a stroke of her hair. She grabbed my wrist and slid it round her face down onto her breasts. They were firm and I felt the nipples erecting as I groped. The rest of the night speaks for itself. It was the best night of my life, I had no idea when I first entered the building that I would end up doing this on the first night.

I woke up the next morning, still with a smile of my face from the events the night before. I rolled over to put my arms across Joanne's chest but to my surprise there was no-one there. Just a name and number. 'Joanne, 07653788967'. I contemplated calling it but I thought if she works here she'll be downstairs. I got up and remembered the glass that was on the floor, I looked but it had already gone. Joanne must have cleaned it up before she left. "What time is it?" I looked at the clock that was on the bedside table. "Half past 10"

_What time had she left?_

I got my things together and headed downstairs in the hope I could catch Joanne before leaving but as I entered reception there was another women there.

"Can I help you" she asked as I approached the desk.

"Yeah, I'm wandering If you know where Joanne has gone? She was working here last night?"

"Joanne? She checked out earlier this morning, she only works mornings"

"Oh right. Do you have any idea where I could I find her?"

"I'm sorry but I can't disclose that information" and with that I turned and exited the building ready for the next part of my adventure.


	6. Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

I took a short drive through the village until I found a pay phone. I thought it would be safer to phone Joanne from an outside number than my mobile. Phone calls can be easily tracked so I wanted to be safe, just in case my captives were still after me. I dialled the number

"Hello" I said waiting for a reply. Nothing. "Hello?" Still nothing. They hung up. Either Joanne didn't want to talk to me or it was someone else's number. I tried again. "Hello?" I asked not expecting a reply, but to my surprise an answer came. The voice that replied wasn't English, he sounded from the Afghan area. _Was this my captive?_

"Hello" the voice replied.

"Is Joanne there?"

"Is this John Tailor?"

How did he know my name? And how did he know who I was? _This must be my captive._ I needed to get more information.

"Erm. Yeah it is. Who's asking?"

"I have some information on your mother and your father that you might be interested in. Meet me outside Drumtochty Castle in Scotland tomorrow at 6:00am sharpish" and then he hung up. I had to get to Scotland by 6:00am. I didn't even know where this castle was.

I looked at the clock. It was know 11:00am; half an hour since leaving the bed and breakfast. I was hungry but I needed to get to Scotland and find this castle. I drove for 20 miles before I pulled into a service station; my stomach couldn't take it any more. I hadn't eaten since the night before. I filled up on what I could with the money I had left; I didn't want to stop again until I hit Scotland. This was going to be a long drive.

6 and a half hours later I hit the Scotland border. I now just needed to find the castle. I drove for another 3 hours before hitting Aberdeen. The drive through Scotland was one of the most beautiful drives that I've ever been through. The views down onto the valleys as I drove up and down the mountains. The colour blue up above me and I saw birds flying back and forth. I've never known anything like it. Aberdeen wasn't any different. I pulled into the city centre of to have a look around. There was a big clock on the roof of the cathedral. 8:00pm. It was too late to have a look at the sites but I was lucky enough to find a restaurant that was open. After grabbing a bite to eat I found a place to stay and rested my head for the night.

It took forty-five minutes to drive to Drumtochty Castle. As I pulled up the drive there was no-one around. The castle was still asleep. The beauty of the castle itself was magnified by the morning sunrise.


End file.
